


Ineffable Truth

by Yenta49 (KyoKohitsuji)



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Biting, First Time, M/M, Mating, Mysticism, Rough Sex, Spirit Animals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-02
Updated: 2013-06-02
Packaged: 2017-12-13 19:14:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/827863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KyoKohitsuji/pseuds/Yenta49
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim finally comes to terms with himself, with Blair, and what they mean to each other. The only thing that remains is for him to take what’s offered to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ineffable Truth

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** _The Sentinel_ and its characters are not mine, unless you count the raging hard-on I have for a certain wild haired anthro post-grad; they belong to Pet Fly and UPN and other people, who are so not me.
> 
>  **AN:** Someone reminded me that long ago in a fandom far, far away, I used to be known for my mating fic. This of course made me wonder if I could pull it off with these guys (no pun intended). This is the outcome; I can only hope someone out there enjoys it.
> 
>  **NB:** Once again, immeasurable thanks to Kyo for allowing me to hijack her AO3.

\---------

Ever since the Merge, he refused to think of it in any of the myriad other words or images or feelings it evoked, things had been different. Oh, he and Blair had mended their friendship and settled back into the easy camaraderie of years past. But that was the problem, it was the past.

In the weeks and months leading up to Alex, they’d been building something, something new, different, and exciting, and it seemed Alex had destroyed that. Who was he kidding _he_ had destroyed that, Alex was merely a catalyst – or a scapegoat, a treacherous voice in his head supplied.

He wanted that back – the extra touches and secret smiles, the long easy dinners, and sitting just a little closer while they watched a Jags game. That traitorous voice popped up again, admit it Ellison, you were dating. Jim groaned into his pillow.

To make matters worse, Blair had all but given him an open invitation to not just start where they left off, but to take it further, emotionally and spiritually. Lying in that hospital bed, a modern day Lazarus, Blair had offered him the world on a platter and he hadn’t been able to take it. He’d told his Guide he wasn’t ready, and he hadn’t been.

Now… Now, after months of listening to the stark reminder of damaged lungs, rough and heavy as they healed, and worse, the rapid heartbeat, whimpers, and occasional screams and the fear tinged sweat in the night, he was ready for whatever it entailed; if it was even an option any more.

Jim hated himself, right then. Hated how he’d hurt the one person who was his world, hated that he’d been too scared to take what he wanted, needed, when it was offered to him, hated that he couldn’t even say he had the courage to go after it now.

Clenching his eyes shut, he tried to push the thoughts out, latching onto the one thing that could truly focus him. In the small room below him, he heard the slow rhythms of Sandburg sleeping, his breathing clear and easy. As he let himself soak up the man downstairs his tension and thoughts ebbed until there was only Blair.  
Blair, who had offered him everything.  
Blair, who had _died_ because of him.  
Blair, who stayed with him despite it all.  
Blair, who was his center, his world.  
He needed to be close to that center, wanted to be close to it.

Without conscious thought Jim climbed out of bed and padded downstairs. He didn’t know why it was so important to him; it was some guttural, primal need. He stood for long minutes looking at Blair’s sleeping form through the sliver of opening between the French doors. He didn’t remember moving to the doors or easing them open.

Blair was sprawled on his stomach, one leg stretched out, the other bent at a right angel, left arm tucked under his pillow, right hand resting on the pillow next to him. His features looked even younger in sleep, though Jim could see the small creases and worry-lines that he’d accumulated in the years he’d known Jim, because he’d known Jim. And his hair was wild, strewn around his face and shoulders, twisted and tangled like jungle vines.

“Jim?” the young anthropologist asked blearily.

“Sorry, Chief, I just…” his surprisingly dry voice trailed off.

Leaning up on one elbow, Blair looked critically at the big man in his doorway. His steady gaze appraising Jim in detail. Jim had no idea what Blair saw, but the young man smiled softly. Pulling up the corner of his comforter in invitation, he spoke the words that had haunted his Sentinel’s mind, “Come on in, the water’s nice.”

Jim might have whimpered, he didn’t know; his mind too busy screaming in relief and ecstasy. The next thing he registered was the warm arm pulling him flush with a furred chest. His entire body seemed to sag, turning him into 6’2” of pliable flesh in the arms of the man who saved his life in more ways and more times than he could possibly know, the man he loved. “Blair.” The name breathed on a sigh.

“I know,” he whispered, nuzzling softly against his partner’s neck as he stroked in lazy calming motions over his stomach.

Blair drifted on the edge of sleep, his merely average senses trained on his partner. He wasn’t sure what had changed Jim’s mind, or why now, but those answers would come in time. For now it was enough for Jim to be there; their hearts beating a synchronized tune. In a voice only a Sentinel could hear, Blair said the most important words of his life, “Love you, Jim."

Jim’s large hand covered Blair’s, stilling the gentle caresses as he laced their fingers together and brought their intertwined hands to rest over his heart.

It was better than any verbal response his Sentinel could’ve given him.

~~~

The jungle shimmered, too close to perfect; he wasn’t surprised when the big cat appeared from the underbrush. The jaguar looked squarely at him, locking gazes with his counterpart. He watched in fascination as one piercing eye pulsated between gold and blue. Without a sound the cat turned back into the jungle, trusting the Sentinel to follow.

A thousand questions flashed through his mind, tumbling over each other like the waters over craggy rapids, as he tried to keep pace. The big cat wound through the trees and growth easily avoiding nature’s obstacles, weaving in and out of Jim’s vision, daring him to follow as the jungle got thicker, the terrain more treacherous.

The jungle seemed a solid mass far denser than anything in nature; trees so close together that he had to climb to get through, vines and plants grabbing at his body as if trying to hold him back and thick enough to obscure the floor completely. He lost sight of the jaguar as it bounded, seemingly unhindered by the forest growth – a growth that was woven so solid he wasn’t even sure if he could get past it. He froze, reaching out for any sign of the panther, any indication of which way to go. There was something just out of reach, the hint of a sound, a familiar rhythm that lulled him to sleep even when its owner was absent. At first the sound came from the right, then behind him, in front of him, above him, below him, until it seemed it was not simply all around him, but _in_ him. He was prepared to roar in frustration and pain, when he heard it, clear as chimes in a summer wind, the unmistakable longing cry of a wolf. Suddenly he knew which way to go, his hands tearing through the wall of vines and twisted flora. It was mere moments later when he entered the clearing. There on the far side, sitting in the sun was the grey wolf. His heart caught in his throat, the last time he’d seen the wolf… well, he didn’t want to think about the last time he’d seen it.

It turned to look at him as he entered the clearing, its soulful blue eyes glittering, even as one eye pulsed between blue and deep gold. A sound from the left drew the attention of two sets of eyes and a happy whimper from the wolf. The big cat barely spared Jim a glance on its way to greet its mate. Jim watched as the animals happily nuzzled and rubbed each other. “I don’t understand,” he said to the pair.

As one the wolf and panther raised their heads to him questioningly, their mismatched eyes slowly pulsing in tandem.

“What is there not to understand, Enqueri? The black jaguar has found its mate; is ready to claim him.”

Jim looked from the image of Incacha to the animals, now grooming each other with an odd serenity.

“Your bond with your Guide is strong. You know this. But this bond can be broken. This you also know,” he added in somber tones, tinged with sadness.

“But Blair’s fine. I brought him back,” Jim insisted, the thought of losing Blair again drowning his words in urgency.

Incacha bowed his head in acknowledgement then cast his eyes to their spirit animals now laying side by side a large black paw resting possessively over its grey counterpart, his sleek black head resting protectively – lovingly – over the wolf’s neck. “Sentinel and Guide are one, Enqueri.” He inclined his head to the entwined animals. “They wait for you.”

Jim closed his eyes, images of his Guide, his Blair smiling the gentle smile he had only ever turned on him filled his vision. “I’ve been a fool,” he stated simply.

A hand came to rest on his arm. “Not a fool, Enqueri, human.”

Jim met the Shaman’s warm gaze and nodded once.

Incacha smiled, turning towards the animals once again. “Go,” he said, “your Guide waits.” Then he was gone, leaving Jim alone with their spirit guides.

The jungle began to fade away and the wolf stood, padding over to Jim to nuzzle at his hand. As he stroked the soft grey fur the jaguar growled approvingly before they, too, faded away.

Jim woke with the comforting weight of Blair’s arm still holding him tightly and his warm breath tickling his neck. Careful not to wake the young man, he turned to face him. He ran his fingers through the unruly curls, enjoying their silky softness as they seemed to caress his skin wherever they touched. Gently, he trailed his fingers over Blair’s face. He heard Blair’s heart rate and breathing speed up, dragging him from sleep to wakefulness.

Blair didn’t move, didn’t open his eyes or speak. He simply let Jim continue his ghost of a touch as he explored the lines and form of his face, taking him in with his sense of touch.

As Jim trailed two fingers over his eyelids he smiled the slow, soft smile Jim so loved. “Hey,” he whispered, opening his eyes.

Jim returned the warm smile. His fingers sliding down the side of Blair’s face crossing over to trace his lips. “I’m sorry,” he said.

Blair’s brow furrowed.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to get here,” he explained.

There it was, again – that smile. Blair shook his head slowly and kissed the fingers still stroking his lips. The arm draped around Jim’s waist lifted to allow warm fingers to follow the lines of his face. “You got here, man. I woulda waited.”

Jim smiled a soft, barely there smile then pressed a kiss to Blair’s palm. “You did.”

Sliding along the closely cropped hair, Blair cupped the back of Jim’s head and pulled him forward for a lazy, sweet kiss. Their first kiss lingered on for long moments, Blair refusing every attempt Jim made to deepen or quicken the kiss, Jim was here, now, with him; there was no need for urgency and Blair wanted to savor this moment, letting lips and tongue learn and memorize Jim’s. 

Soon, Jim relinquished all control of the kiss to his Guide. Blair was more than his Guide as a Sentinel; he was his guide through the rest of his life as well and he put his trust and faith in Blair to guide him in this.

Wrapping his arms around Blair he rolled to his back, pulling Blair on top of him and pressing their groins together. That earned him a satisfying whimper against his lips. Rolling his hips, both men moaned at the delicious pressure and finally, Blair let go of his tight restraint, delving hungrily into Jim’s mouth as their hips began a torturously slow rocking.

Jim’s hands stroked and petted all along Blair’s back causing shivers to shoot up and down his spine. With Herculean effort Jim pulled his mouth away, not that it stopped his partner, who simply moved to nibble and suck evilly on his neck. “Chief, Blair,” he spoke the names breathlessly “Wait. We,” he groaned as Blair sucked on a particularly sensitive spot. “We need to talk.”

The words got Blair’s attention instantly. He sat up, his hands coasting over Jim’s bare chest as he went. “What is it? Something wrong? I thought –”

Jim gripped Blair’s hips, holding him in place. “Yes… No…” His hand came up to rest on his lover’s cheek. “I want this,” he said pointedly, his voice rough with desire.

The slight edge of tension that had invaded Blair’s body eased. “Then what, man?”

Jim let his head fall back on the pillow, closing his eyes; never taking his hands off his Guide. Steeling himself, “I had a vision,” he all but whispered.

“Oh,”

“Yeah.”

Blair shifted, sliding off Jim’s hips to sit next to him on the bed.

Jim mourned the loss of contact, fearing his words had somehow pushed him away. God, he hated talking about this.

Before Jim could become more distressed, a heavy hand pressed into the center of Jim’s chest. “Breathe, big guy, I’m not going anywhere.”

Obeying, he let out the breath he’d unconsciously been holding.

“Is that why you came down here?” 

The words were spoken calmly, but Jim could sense the uneasiness behind them. He put his hand over Blair’s, holding it to his chest. “No,” he said. “ _No_ ,” he said again stronger, trying to push the point home. “It was after. Just now.”

Relaxing, Blair slid down to lie along Jim’s side. “Tell me,” he said, resting his head on the big man’s shoulder; Jim’s arm coming up instinctively to wrap around him, holding him close.

Jim took a deep breath. “I saw Incacha. He said I could lose you again.”

“Jim.”

He squeezed the hand on his chest forestalling any further comment from his Guide. “He said our bond was strong, but it could be broken, again. The wolf and panther were there, too.” The image of the jaguar laying protectively, territorially against the wolf filled his mind. “There something with their eyes. They kept… changing, flickering between yellow and blue.”

Blair’s hand curled as if trying to tighten in a reassuring squeeze; he spread his fingers interlacing them with Jim’s.

“Incacha said they were waiting for me; that Sentinel and Guide were one.”

“The last piece of the bond,” Blair said softly. “You’re not ready for that,” he added without recrimination.

“No,” Jim countered adamantly, raising his head to look at Blair, squeezing his hand almost painfully. “I am.” He sighed. “I was worried about you.”

“Jim, man, for a Sentinel you can be blind sometimes.” He eased his words with a kiss to the chest under him. “I love you; you – Jim Ellison. Sure the Sentinel-Guide thing adds to it, but if you woke up tomorrow and your senses were gone and you didn’t need me as your Guide, I’d still love you, _be_ in love with you.”

Jim let out a shaky breath and pulled Blair on top of him. “I love you, too; sometimes, I think I always have and that scares me,” he admitted softly. “I don’t think I could take it if I lost you again.”

“Jim –”

“No, don’t; we both know it could happen – to either of us.”

Blair shook his head. “Fatalist.”

“Realist,” Jim corrected.

“I was going to say that if it’s in my power you won’t lose me.”

The big man tightened his arms around his love. “Are you sure about this?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that, babe?”

Jim smiled at the new epithet; he could definitely get used to that. “I’m ready, Chief; finally.”

Pushing up on his right arm, Blair stroked his hand down the center of Jim’s chest, watching with fascination how his muscles fluttered and rippled at the touch. He let his fingers float over Jim’s chest, cataloguing every tremor and whimper, every sucked in breath and moan. His mouth was soon to follow in his explorations, first lapping sweetly at Jim’s neck – every hiss of pleasure was pure music and Blair spent the next several minutes seeing what other music he could pull from his Sentinel. He quickly found his favorites were the hissing, stuttering breaths when he licked along the dip that ran the length of his collarbone; the gasps and whimpers he received from lavishing attention on Jim’s right nipple, and the sound of Jim’s panting breaths as he nipped his way down his abs. Satisfied with his musical studies for the moment, Blair wriggled back up his Sentinel’s body, capturing his still panting mouth in a languid kiss that seemed to cool their frantic passion just as it stoked the fires of their desire leaving them with a slow welcome burn like the promise of a summer’s day. Reluctantly pulling away from the enrapturing meeting of mouths, teeth, and tongues, Blair looked down at his lover; Jim’s sky blue eyes darkened and heavy. “Jim?” He found himself short of breath as he asked, “What do you want, babe?”

“Everything,” he answered gently running a hand down Blair’s face, oddly calm and composed even with lust laden eyes and heavy, ragged breathing.

Blair kissed the hand gliding over his cheek, realizing he hadn’t asked the right question; though Jim’s answer meant the world to him. “What do you need, Jim?” he whispered the question into Jim’s open palm. “What do we need? For the bond?”

Jim closed his eyes and shook his head; the meaning obvious to his Guide. The hand cupping Blair’s cheek tightened, a single word in a love hewn voice the only answer Jim could give. “You.” With that he sealed their mouths together once again. He didn’t think he could ever get enough of his Guide, his _Blair_ ; he could get drunk on his kisses alone, the warm welcoming depths, the rough-smooth nap of his tongue blanketing and twining with his, and the spicy, earthy flavor combining into the warmth and serenity of autumn and the vibrance of spring – all things quintessentially Blair. He pulled back from the kiss, both hands cradling Blair’s face, his fingers brushing away stray curls intent on achieving freedom from the masses. Blue eyes traced the lines of his lover’s face mystified as always by the strength and masculinity hidden under angelic softness.

Blair ran his hand over Jim’s short hair. “I love you, big guy.” The openness in his voice mirrored the openness in his eyes and heart.

It was an openness Jim needed to fill to make them whole. With a gentle nudge he rolled them until Blair was on his back laid out beside him. Leaning up on his elbow, he looked down on his lover – _mate_ , some primal part of his hind brain supplied and veritably purred with satisfaction at the concept. Lover, mate, partner – it didn’t matter, all that mattered was that they were finally together, no longer two separate souls floundering, searching, and waiting for each other, he thought as he all but petted his mate’s chest, absently noting how the hair there felt so similar to the fur of the wolf in his vision.

Blair shivered at the tender strokes over his chest, maybe it was Jim, maybe it was because he’d wanted and waited for so long, but the touch felt like something more than simply physical; it felt like Jim was caressing his soul.

He needed Jim – badly; if someone had told him he could come simply by having his chest stroked he would have quietly suggested they get evaluated for certain delusional psychoses. He wanted to grab Jim’s hand on its teasing downward stroke and slide it under his boxers to wrap it around his aching shaft. But this was Jim’s show, yes, it was for both of them, it was what they needed, wanted, but Jim had to come to him. It was part of the Sentinel thing, Blair mused. He had accepted and welcomed the spiritual part of their bond long ago, when Incacha passed Jim into his care, but Jim was a man of actions, it was up to him to seal the physical part of their bond. Blair understood this, never questioned it, like so much between them it was instinctual. He had accepted and waited. Now, Jim was here, ready to complete their union and Blair knew Jim would know innately what needed to be done, so he held on and let the sensations overwhelm him.

Jim looked down as his hand ran over Blair’s chest, each hair standing out, wrapping around Jim’s fingers until he wasn’t sure if he was the one caressing or being caressed. How could hair _hold_ him? God, if this was what the coating of hair on his chest did, what would that mane of curls feel like? It was suddenly imperative that he find out. His hand ran one last time up Blair’s chest, reluctant to slip from the woven embrace; fingers trailed up over collarbone and throat, passing gently over ear to sink into the silken tresses his mate was so protective of. They’d always joked about Sandburg’s hair having a mind and life of its own, but right now, Jim truly believed it. Every single strand twisted and twined around his fingers, a vice of whimsical hair.

Warm finger ran along his flanks as he carded his fingers through Blair’s seemingly sapient hair, massaging his scalp every few moments, earning full body shudders in his young lover. Jim had to close his eyes, the urge to _take_ , claim, and mark were close to overwhelming. But he couldn’t do that, not to Blair. Still, he needed something. Reluctantly, he pulled away, grabbing Blair’s wandering hand to still it. He raised the hand to his lips, kissing it softly, almost reverently. He laid the hand at Blair’s side, silently telling him to leave it there. Sitting up, he repeated the process with Blair’s other hand. He stood, shucking his boxers to climb back onto the bed blissfully bare. 

His hands made a long, lazy sojourn down his lover’s body – the touch of a feather would have been heavy by comparison. When his hands reached cotton covered hips, he stopped; tracing a single finger along the edge of the waistband.

“Jim, please…” Blair’s hands fisted the bed sheets, his rough voice full of need and no small amount of pleading.

With a devilish kiss to Blair’s covered shaft Jim slipped his fingers under the waistband and carefully, torturously so, pulled his boxers down and off.

A harsh, wanton rush of air came from the head of the bed as Blair’s straining erection was freed.

The room and Jim’s senses, already immersed in the heavy scent of _Blair_ , were suddenly flooded with the control breaking aroma. Jim barely suppressed a growl as he attacked Blair’s warm willing body with his mouth – sucking, biting marks to his inner thighs, playful, possessive nips to his hips, peppered kisses up his chest with detours to bite and lick at his nipples. Flicking and gently tugging on the simple silver hoop in his left nipple, enjoying the deep, guttural, almost primitive sound it coerced from his lover’s full lips. And finally, _finally_ covering his lover’s mouth with his own.

Everywhere there was skin on skin, nerve endings firing in a thunderous cacophony of sensation an electric caress, base and primal.

Panting, Jim began nuzzling into Blair’s neck, snuffling the sensitive skin behind his ear. “Need you. Blair… need to…”

“…take me,” Blair finished for him in a whisper.

Jim let out a plaintiff sound, pressing his face harder, more securely against his lover’s skin. “Yes.”

“Please, Jim. Always been yours.” His voice strong and sure even as he spoke with Sentinel-soft intimacy, “Waited for you. Please, finish it. I love you, man, always. …take me.”

“Blair,” he whispered, a benediction to the man in his arms, a promise and a hunger. He slid easily, perfectly between his mate’s legs. With a deep sensory suffusing inhale he slowly pulled away resting comfortably on his haunches. The backs of his fingers rubbed in barely there touches along his lover’s thighs, while he pawed in Blair’s bedside drawer for something that would pass for slick.

The touch was maddening, only made bearable knowing what was to come. Blair’s lifetime of meditation was nothing against the onslaught of his Sentinel. He ached to touch, to guide Jim’s sensual mouth back to his adorned nipple and hold him there as he licked and teased and veritably tongue fucked the shinning hoop.

As if knowing his lover’s thoughts, Jim let his hand wander up to play with the ring, flicking and tugging lightly. With surprisingly deft moves Jim lubed his unoccupied hand, slicking his cock and fingers. He rubbed lightly around Blair’s opening, letting the scent of Blair’s arousal spike through his senses, imprinting lust and love in its wake. Slowly he pressed against the tight ring, easing his finger inside. It was if he’d lost control of the dials and everything was focused on that finger. He was wrapped in fine, close pile velvet, Blair’s blood rushed in an impossible staccato rhythm across his skin. Fingers raked through the thin pelt on Blair’s chest as he pumped, slowly preparing his lover, easing in a second finger when Blair’s muscles relaxed around him and his breathing came in steady breathy gasps.

Blair’s hands clenched in the sheets, dancing to the rhythm of Jim’s careful ministrations, a soft keening whimper giving voice to his need and pleasurable distress.

Running soft circles over his inner thigh, Jim tried to calm and reassure his lover. He knew being so quiet and docile had to be hard on his mate, but this was how it needed to be. Once again, Jim was shaken by the knowledge that Blair understood and would give him this. Some part of him, in the back of his mind, roared at the surrender, demanding that it be cherished and guarded like the treasure it was – that he be claimed, his mate, for all who looked to see. Blair was _his_. With a sudden urgency he slipped his fingers from his lover’s body, urging him onto his stomach. Jim ran his hands over the mounds of Blair’s ass, up his prostrate body, over his secretly muscled arms to first lay his hands over Blair’s blanketing them warm then to lace their fingers together, linking with ease, fitting together like pieces of a puzzle just as their bodies were preparing to. Rocking gently as his cock slid tantalizingly over the sensitive flesh between his cheeks, the head teasing Blair’s waiting hole, a hair’s breadth from pressing inside needing only that tiny extra push to pierce and fill him. Nuzzling against his ear, he whispered a heart-gripping plea. “Blair… forever?”

Blair squeezed the fingers laced with his. “For eternity, Jim. Eternity.”

The declaration of belonging triggered a guttural growl of approval within the Sentinel; nothing staying him from taking his mate. Canting his hips, he buried himself deep in the tight heat of Blair’s body. He felt Blair’s muffled gasp as his cock was squeezed in a scalding human vice. It took every hint of control he had left to stop and let the muscles gripping him adjust and give the pleasure time to overtake any pain.

Jim lowered his head to place small, gentling licks along Blair’s spine between his shoulder blades.

Blair’s head fell forward as he arched his back into the moist touch and pushed back against Jim’s hips.

With the silent encouragement Jim began a torturous pace, pushing the already worn edges of his control. The licks along Blair’s back had given way to almost possessive nips and bites across his shoulder blades and up his neck. As his mate pushed against him, matching him thrust for thrust, Jim held him with a secure arm and leaned back to rest on his heels, Blair straddled in his lap – pushing deeper, filling him more.

Blair’s hand slid up to cup Jim’s head, pulling his face roughly, wantonly against his exposed neck.

Where Jim had been placing layer upon layer of fevered, open mouthed, sucking, nipping kisses, he was now faced with the culmination of his desire and need – his mate offering himself, fully prepared to be marked and claimed. He kissed and laved a spot to the back of Blair’s neck along the bend of neck and shoulder. As his preparations neared completion his arm tightened around Blair’s waist, the other hand fisting the young man’s cock.

Blair’s hands scrabbled at Jim’s flanks, clawing and grasping, digging his short nails into flesh marking it however fleetingly, and pulling him closer, wishing he could take his mate’s entire being into his bliss-filled body.

Too short a time passed before the tell-tale tingling began to run up and down Jim’s spine. He pushed into Blair almost viciously pressing against the spot inside him that made stars explode through his body even as he was thrust hard into Jim’s tight unforgiving fist.

Even through the wild attentions of his lover, the litany of “Jim,” “please,” “yours” never ceased to flow from Blair’s lips. His own need voiced perfectly within those small words.

Jim’s arm tightened further, anchoring him to his lover, his _mate_ as his thrusts became erratic, uninhibited. 

A sound built low in Jim’s gut, rumbling up along Blair’s overheated back, where it was pressed flush against Jim’s chest. Growing outward and upward, and ever stronger, until the sound was a wholly physical thing, a soul-deep, rapturous pleasure vibrating against him and through him, making him feel as if he would fly apart if not for Jim surrounding him, holding him completely. 

Just as he thought he would fly away despite Jim’s presence, Jim gave voice to the desperate sound, a deep, soft, purring roar, shaking the outside of his body as much as in. Blair let out his own intense cry of fulfillment as teeth bit into his flesh – rough, hard, animalistic – and he soured on tidal wave of ecstasy, emptying out over Jim’s warm, nursing hand; feeling his lover’s completion follow moments after, filling him, marking him as surely as his teeth had.

For a moment Jim forgot to breathe, everything was Blair. His skin felt nothing but the warm touch of his mate’s skin, his breath, his hair – he was encompassed by him. His ears rang with needy breaths, desirous moans, and the rapid comfort of Blair’s heart, the scent of their lovemaking, sweat and semen and sex, permeated the air, that heavenly autumn/spring flavor of his Guide filled his mouth even when achingly separate from him, and he was blinded by expanses of pale, furred flesh, flushed, swollen lips, and sparkling eyes shrouded in midnight, pupils blown wide and wanton. There was nothing in his world, but his mate. Blair was his world, probably always had been, but now he knew it, no longer doubting his feelings about it, and faced his plentiful fears. Now, he had Blair and they belonged to each other – finally, the physical manifestation of an ineffable truth.

Gently, lapping tenderly over the bloody marks on the back of Blair’s neck, Jim lowered them to their sides. “I’m sorry, Chief, I didn’t–”

Blair squeezed his hand, cutting him off. “You needed it. Besides,” he stretched his neck, exposing the bloodied marks more, “I kinda like it.”

Jim didn’t speak, merely kissed the marks once again and nuzzled through Blair’s raucous curls into his neck.

They drifted for a while, the sticky mess deemed inconsequential, some things were more important, like wrapping themselves in the moment and everything it sanctified.

A leathery hand passed over their arms where they were nestled together. Two pairs of vibrant blue eyes, one set the dark of night, the other the light of day, opened to see the familiar dark eyes, dark skin, and dark features of Incacha crouching next to them.

“It is done. As it should be. As it was meant to be.” The old Shaman smiled softly and vanished, leaving behind a jaguar and a wolf curled around each other, looking at their human counterparts, each with one golden eye, one blue; solid, constant, deep – as it should be.

“Jim,” Blair’s voice was quiet with awe, “did you see that?”

The older man smiled and placed another kiss on his mark. “Yeah, Chief, I saw.”

“Wow, man, a shared vision – _another_ shared vision. You think this will happen more now?” his love asked, his insatiable researcher’s mind already beginning to take over and analyze.

“Stop right there, Professor. It doesn’t need to be overanalyzed and picked apart.”

“But, Jim, man, what if it means something?”

“It means we need to get up,” he made himself roll away from the man he loved to climb off the bed, “get cleaned up,” he helped Blair up, pulling him to him for a sweet, lingering kiss, "and take this upstairs. Our bed is bigger.”


End file.
